


Making Merry

by quiveringbunny



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Holiday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:18:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quiveringbunny/pseuds/quiveringbunny
Summary: Oliver Queen finds himself roped into helping his sister during the holidays.





	1. The Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays, friends!
> 
> Here is a bit of a warm, fluffy hug for you. We are a fortunate fandom, aren't we? 
> 
> There will be three chapters.

[ ](https://imgur.com/txq8ron)

 

Chapter One: The Tree

 

Every year, Queen Consolidated, one of the most prosperous companies in Starling City, conducted a holiday fundraiser to benefit after school programs for children in The Glades. The efforts typically ranged from $500-a-plate galas to company raffles.

This year’s scheme, masterminded by Thea Queen herself, was a sale of Christmas trees and greenery. This was how her brother, Oliver, found himself driving a borrowed pick-up truck after work one Friday night several days before Christmas, to deliver a Christmas tree to an employee who lived just on the edge of town.

At first, Oliver groused at the request. Perhaps that was because as the CEO of the company, he thought they “had people” for this kind of chore. But more likely, he was just annoyed because Thea – his only living relative, his baby sister – was not in town herself to oversee the completion of her project. No, she was in some remote part of Switzerland skiing with a young man who looked like a catalog model and she wasn’t going to be home until the day after Christmas. Sure, she had apologized profusely and he knew she was genuinely gutted that transportation was not cooperating.  Oliver even offered the company jet, but Thea insisted it would be wasteful.

“Ollie, use the money we’d spend on a plane and put it towards the afterschool fund. That would be the best Christmas present, really,” she had pleaded via Skype. Thea deployed the eyes then, the ones that looked like they belonged in a Keane painting.

Oliver sighed. “I guess that means I can take back your other presents, Speedy.”

“Other presents?” she chirped, grinning into the phone.

“Maybe,” he said solemnly. Oliver didn’t want to make things too easy.

“Yes!” Thea pumped her delicate fist in the air. “I have presents for you too. And we’ll just spread it out one more day?”

He could hardly begrudge his sister companionship during the holidays. Since they lost their parents, they had drifted together, but holidays were hardest. Each year, without deliberately admitting it, they found reasons to spend Christmas apart. The day was a reminder of loss, more than anything, so individual distractions were preferable to shared pain. To strangers it might have seemed like an odd arrangement, but they were Queens and accustomed to making up their own rules.  

"Okay." He nodded. “Call me on Christmas though?”

“Of course, Brother.” Thea blew him a kiss and then the call terminated.

Oliver rolled his eyes and chuckled at his sister, setting about putting his tablet into the messenger bag that served as his “hipster CEO briefcase.” It had been a gift from his fashionable sibling and he carried it to the office every day.

Just before he closed the flap, Oliver’s tablet lit up again. He dug it out and accepted another call from the younger Queen.

“Yes?” He eyed her with trepidation.

“Ollie, there’s one more thing.” Thea gave him a sweet smile. She even blinked a few extra times to seem more adorable. Oliver grimaced back.

“Just tell me, Thea.”  

“It’s the Holiday Greens sale. I kind of need a big favor tonight.”

And now Oliver was driving down a dark street lined with weathered duplex houses, a 7-foot Douglas fir and stand nestled in the truck bed, gazing at house numbers. Gratefully, there was no one parked in front of 5824. He was able to maneuver Tommy Merlyn’s massive F-150 into the space. He much preferred to drive his own car, but the delivery crew had dispersed and his best friend had kindly stepped up to offer his pickup.  Sort of. _Don’t get any tree sap on it, Oliver_ , he had remarked. _It’s a truck, Tommy_ , he countered, _not an Aston Martin. You’re supposed to haul dirt around in it and get it muddy as hell._ Tommy smirked. _When you get your own truck, you can keep it as filthy as you want._

Soon after, Oliver picked up the tree from a designated area in the Queen Consolidated parking garage. He was grateful for the cover. It was an unusually cold night for Starling City in December and the frigid wind was whipping past the buildings in the business district. He was also grateful that Tommy had left warm gloves and a balaclava on the passenger’s seat following a snowboarding adventure. They were probably Armani, Oliver surmised. Nothing but the best for his friend.

With thoughts of how he would later tease the crap out of his best friend by finding an online photo of a mud-caked truck and sending it to him with an apologetic text, Oliver pulled on the warm wear. It was much colder out now and he still had to wrangle his prickly cargo. Oliver headed to 5826, a printed delivery form clutched in his leather-gloved hand, and knocked after he scaled the stairs and reached the door.

The door opened and a shape was illuminated in the light-filled frame. Then, the shape (his eyes were still adjusting from the brightness) yelped sharply, filling Oliver’s ears. It threw him. He wasn’t expecting that.

“Oh my God!” the figure shouted, then stepped back into the house and slammed the door shut. It didn’t actually hit him in the face, but his eyes registered the breeze as it closed in front of him. Oliver stood there for nearly two minutes trying to process what had just happened. He pulled the order form up to his face and checked the house number again. He was in the right place. He tentatively knocked again. The door did not open.

This time, a small female voice called out, filtered by the wooden door.

“I have the police on speed dial.”

“Really? Speed dial? Most people would just dial 911,” Oliver responded without thinking. 

“I’m not most people. I work with the police. They know me. So, I can contact them whenever I want. Directly. It’s much faster.”

“Wait. I thought you worked at Queen Consolidated.”

“Okay, I’m definitely going to call the cops now, Mister Stalker Home Invader.”

“I have no idea what-“ Oliver was getting exasperated now and Thea was never going to hear the end of it when next he saw her. _No good deed goes unpunished, indeed_.

It was only then that he touched his head and realized he was wearing Tommy’s designer ski mask. Letting out an exasperated groan, Oliver pulled the garment off and stuffed it in his coat pocket.

“Miss, sorry for freaking you out. I’m here from QC to deliver the Christmas tree you ordered.”

There was a beat. Maybe two. Then he heard the woman’s voice again as it distinctly muttered, "Oh crap."

The door slowly swung open again. This time, Oliver was more prepared for the change in brightness. But he was less prepared for his first real look at the young woman standing inside the entryway. She had wavy blonde hair and…lips. Of course, she had lips. Everybody had lips. But hers were the color of cranberries, he thought. She was wearing glasses. No-nonsense frames that did nothing to make her any less cute. But behind them her brilliant blue eyes looked…puffy. He had seen that look enough on Thea to recognize when a woman had been crying. He must have really scared her.

“I’m really sorry for surprising you like that. I borrowed my friend’s truck to bring your tree and I put his ski mask on because it’s really cold. I don’t even own one of these stupid things. They are pretty creepy, even with a designer label.” Oliver snagged the offending headwear from his pocket and waved it around.

The girl with the azure eyes laughed quietly and tilted her head, sizing him up.  He was more than a head taller than she was and broad in the shoulders. His hair was sitting up a little on top, in disarray from the ski mask. But his eyes were…pretty. Blue. And he had gorgeous eye lashes. A faint shadow of scruff along his jaw, combined with his leather jacket and jeans gave him a sexy tradesman kind of look.

“That was a great ramble,” she volunteered.

For some reason he couldn’t explain, Oliver blushed a little. He didn’t go off like that in front of women, but somehow, with this one, he was already on the ropes. “Sorry.”

“No, it was wonderful. It’s usually me doing that.” She smiled at him, a genuine smile, but it rushed away and her demeanor changed.

“Oh, what am I thinking? Please come in!” She retreated from the door and motioned for Oliver to enter. It was as if there was a string tied between them and he advanced on command. She maneuvered around his large frame and closed the door to stop more chilly air from coming through.

The woman was dressed for serious weekend lounging on this Friday night. A fluffy pink robe. Loose QC t-shirt underneath. Snug-fitting Star Wars leggings tucked into panda slippers. She was kind of adorable. Not the type of woman he usually met these days. They were decidedly…slinkier. Usually clad in sexy designer gowns or club dresses. Truthfully, the harder they appeared to try to get his attention, the less interested he seemed to be. Apparently, he felt more at ease around soft and cuddly. And slightly whimsical.  

“So, you are…” Oliver glanced down at the order form. “Felicity Smoak?”

“Yes,” she responded with deliberate enthusiasm. “That is me.” She began moving, so Oliver trailed behind her into a space that was likely her living room. Oliver tried to school his expression as he surveyed the sparsely appointed room. There was a nice sized TV, a sofa, several lamps, and numerous unopened IKEA furniture boxes scattered around the room. At least two were being used as end tables. No decorations. No paintings or tchotchkes of any kind, but he did notice a box of Kleenex tissues and a menorah. Curious.

“I think it would be nice to put the tree in the bay window. Isn’t that what people do?” Felicity seemed sincerely curious. She also appeared to be fidgeting with her hair a bit, subtly checking on whether it was sticking out. Her skin was creamy except where a handful of freckles dotted her nose and he wanted to count them. Yeah, that didn’t sound creepy at all in his head.

Oliver disengaged from the urge to stare at her by moving to the open space at the window, his eyebrows raised as he surmised the location. “I have definitely seen that done.” He turned around and thought for a moment that Felicity Smoak might have been checking him out while his back was turned. Maybe it was his imagination. Maybe it was his ego. He _was_ wearing one of his favorite pairs of jeans that fit well and the leather jacket Thea assured him was flattering. Suddenly, he hoped she was checking him out. It would make him feel less weird about noticing how attractive she was. 

Felicity definitely looked caught when Oliver turned around, but she tried to cover it. “Great. Let me get my coat and help you bring it in. I know it’s big. I ordered the extra-large one. I liked the idea of having something huge in front of my window.” Felicity was moving toward a door that was most likely her coat closet as Oliver folded his arms across his broad chest and choked on a laugh. There was an implication that he was currently the huge something in front of her window. He didn’t think she realized the gaffe. Then, he watched her reach the closet door knob and he returned to his senses.

“Oh no,” he replied with some urgency. “You should stay here. It’s too cold out for…” Oliver pointed downward with a grin. “Panda bears.”

Felicity glanced at her feet and her eyes went wide with embarrassment. “Oh, my God. I…”

“They look really comfortable. Please stay here and hold the door for me when I come back?”

Oliver headed back toward the front door.

“But I feel bad. You’re not my personal Sherpa.”

“I could be a Sherpa,” he smiled slyly. “You haven’t seen my resume.”

Felicity chuckled.  “Thank you so much. I really do appreciate you doing this.” She followed behind him. Yes, it was a nice view. This Sherpa really knew how to wear jeans.

As Oliver opened the door, he pulled the balaclava out of his pocket. “Just warning you. I’m putting the ski mask back on because it’s cold. You aren’t going to freak out again, are you?”

Felicity responded with a breathy laugh in the doorway. Oliver liked the sound of it and headed across her porch towards the stairs. The cool air made everything seem quieter outside. Peaceful. He liked it.

“Hey, I didn’t get your name,” she called out, watching him descend.

He didn’t even turn around as he reached the sidewalk.

“Oliver Queen.”  

He had to stifle a chuckle when he distinctly heard her gasp behind him.

“Oh crap.”

///--->>>>

 

The tree looked _pretty_ straight. Not absolutely straight. The trunk was crooked.  The bottom half was perfectly aligned, but things went awry about three feet from the top. Oliver and Felicity both knew this, but neither acknowledged it. They had spent nearly thirty minutes adjusting the Douglas fir monster with Oliver on the floor finessing the trunk in the stand while Felicity provided directional guidance from above. His face was red from effort and the awkward position he had maintained under the bottom branches as he tightened the screws. Several minutes in, Oliver stood momentarily to toss his leather jacket on the sofa because there was unexpected exertion. Felicity uttered no complaints at this development.   

When Felicity came to grips with the fact that she had been ordering the top executive of a Fortune 500 company to scramble around on the floor until he was rendered vaguely less handsome due to the blood rushing to his otherwise perfect face, she announced unqualified success with suitable fanfare. She knew that Oliver knew she was settling, but he appeared grateful to be able to crawl out from under the beast and shake stray needles from his hair.

The tree was, as expected, huge. But it filled the space perfectly. Oliver couldn’t help but recall his childhood and the ornamented wonders that were scattered around the Queen Mansion each holiday.    

“It’s beautiful…” she announced, deliberately avoiding saying his name aloud because…what was she supposed to call her employer? Mister Queen? Sir? She had only been working at QC for a few months and during that time she was either away at a client site or holed up in her office working on cybersecurity algorithms, unaware that this delicious, kind and generous man was right on top of her. Well, not on top of her.  She was under him, really. Oh, dear Lord this was awkward.

Felicity noticed Oliver doing that thing people do with their hands when they feel gross and want to wash them. Of course. He had been wrangling a tree.

“There’s a powder room down the hall, if you would like to clean up,” she offered brightly. Oliver nodded with relief.

“Thanks.”

He moved quickly towards the open door at the end of the hall. The liquid soap was a welcome sight and it lathered up his hands. He hoped it was strong enough to remove the dirt and sap.

“Would you like a coffee? Or cocoa? Or a glass of wine?” He heard her call out. Oliver caught himself smiling in the mirror above the sink.

“Wine would be nice, actually. But only if you have something open,” he replied, loud enough to be heard through the apartment.

Felicity sprang into action, rummaging in the kitchen and pulling a bottle from a low cabinet. She admired the label and decided it was an acceptable wine to offer a guest. Then she quietly loosened the screw top before snagging two wine glasses from another cupboard. She quickly poured a garnet-colored red blend into the first glass and took a few gulps before refilling it and then pouring the second glass. She took breath. It wasn’t weird to be having a glass of wine with Oliver Queen, was it? He was just a person, after all, one who had done a very nice thing for her. And it wasn’t like she could slip him a $10 bill for a tip. That would be weird. No, a glass of wine was appropriate.  

Oliver strode back into the living room with a smile on his face. His hands were no longer dirty and covered with sap. He also managed to get the last of the pine needles out of his hair. Felicity moved around the counter and offered him a glass, which he accepted gratefully. They found seats on the sofa, a healthy distance apart.

“So, I noticed that you have a menorah, Felicity. Is that for your boyfriend?”

The blonde genius tilted her head, suddenly flustered. “No. It’s mine. I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend. Is that…does that answer your question?”

“Good,” he responded without thinking. Then he walked it back. “Now I guess I don’t understand. You’re Jewish, right?”

“Mmm hmm,” she singsonged back before taking a sip from her glass and folding herself comfortably in the corner of the couch to face him.

“But you bought a Christmas tree. Most Jewish people don’t put up trees, do they?”

“I guess not. It just seemed like such a good cause. After school programs. And I thought it would be fun to see what it was like to have a tree. And I have this huge window.”

“Right.” Oliver took a sip of the wine and found it warmed him up a little. Or maybe it was just the company. He wasn’t sure. Didn’t care.

“I was kind of on the fence about it,” she continued. “I mean, I know it’s a wonderful charity. I guess I could have just made a donation. But the sweet young woman who came around with the sign-up sheet was very persuasive.”

Oliver’s sibling spider-sense perked up. “A young woman persuaded you to buy this tree? I’ll bet she was wearing exceptionally nice shoes.”  

“Ohmygodyes. They were boots, actually. Drop dead gorgeous. She just talked about how wonderful they smell…trees, not the boots, and how festive they make everything. And when I mentioned I had never had a tree before, she looked kind of stricken. She had these big green eyes…”

“Oh, I know that look.” Oliver chortled into his glass. Thea was good, but this was a whole new level – selling a 7-foot Christmas tree to a single Jewish woman. This story would be told for years to come. Tommy would love it.

“That sweet young woman is an unrepentant hornswoggler, Felicity. I can say this with love and admiration because she’s my sister, Thea.”

“Oh, Oliver,” Felicity giggled. It was the first time she’d referred to him by name and she immediately regretted letting it slip, burying her head in her lap. Oliver noted her cute mortification and grinned. He liked the way she said “Oliver.”

“Thank you for not calling me Mister Queen.”

Felicity raised her head slowly and met his eyes. They were twinkling. It was kind of hypnotic.

"Okay," she said, returning his smile.

“How long have you worked at Queen Consolidated? I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen you in a meeting or even on the elevator.” _I would have noticed you_ was a phrase that might have hung in the air if he had the courage to say it out loud.

“Are you sure? Maybe I just don’t stand out that much.”  Felicity brought her wine glass up to her lips and took a generous sip.

It was Oliver’s turn to tilt his head in disbelief. Then he playfully tugged on her panda slipper. “Don’t believe that for a second.”

Felicity’s face felt warm all of a sudden. She knew she should speak, but she waited until she was confident her voice would remain…normalish.   

“I started in October. Part of the team that got acquired from Kord Industries. I’m usually off-site. It’s almost a miracle that I was in my office the day your sister came around about the sale. I just stopped in to pick up some hard drives.”

“Right. Okay. That’s why you said you work with the police. The cybersecurity initiative.”

Felicity nodded. “That’s me.”

“Well, I’m really grateful you didn’t call the cops on me earlier. That would have been harsh.”

“You have no idea. Captain Lance and the guys at Headquarters are like my own personal crew of Lost Boys. You’d be in the pokey as we speak.”

Oliver couldn’t help but wince. He had a history dating Captain Lance’s daughters in his high school days. It wasn’t pretty and Lance would like nothing better than to throw him in, to use Felicity’s vernacular, the pokey, and throw away the key.  Felicity noticed his discomfort, but didn’t ask any questions. She just smiled and took another sip of wine. Oliver put his glass down on an IKEA box and turned to face her. His expression was serious now.

“Felicity, I’m really sorry I scared you earlier.”

“Oh, um, Oliver, it wasn’t a big deal. Really it wasn’t.”

“No. It was. I’m pretty sure I made you cry.”

Oliver looked absolutely gutted. Here in front of him was a delightful woman who was making him laugh for the first time in ages and he had freaked her out very badly. Damn Tommy Merlyn and his couture knitwear.  

Felicity was confused at first. Then she connected the dots. Her hand flew up to cover her mouth.

“I did cry earlier. But it wasn’t anything you did. It was before you got here. And it was ridiculous. I was watching a movie. Little Women. Jo just collapsed in front of Marmie and sobbed about not fitting in anywhere and I completely lost it.”

She looked to him with a sincere, quiet smile. He met it, his blue eyes warm, kind and full of understanding.  “We all feel that way at some point, don’t we? At least, I have,” she continued.

“Yeah,” Oliver replied. “I spent a lot of energy when I was younger not liking who I was. Trying to be other people. It wasn’t a good time. But then I had some experiences that showed me what I was good at…that I had leadership skills. Things turned around for me after that.”

“I was the same way. I was accepted to MIT early and got lost for a while. The wrong guy. Misguided choices. Eventually, I found myself in my work. But when you’ve moved around for your career like I have, you still get twinges when you come to a new town and don’t know anyone.”

Oliver picked up his glass and gently swirled the wine inside. “But here you are in Starling City. Already tight with the police force and…”

Felicity eyed him over her glass. “My boss’s boss’s boss?”

Hearing those words pained Oliver a little. He shook his head. “I was going to say me. Just me.”

She felt herself full-on blushing this time. The attention of this man in front of her was overwhelming. “That sounds even better,” she replied with a blinding smile. Flirting a little could go both ways.

“And you have a tree.”

“It smells incredible.”

“That’s one of the best things about buying a live one,” Oliver noted. “How are you going to decorate it? Lights? Garland?”

Felicity shrugged. “I honestly hadn’t thought about it. I guess I should.”

Two things happened a short while later that signaled it was time to wrap up the evening. Oliver emptied his wine glass and Felicity yawned. She looked apologetic about it, at least. Oliver huffed a laugh, rose, and slipped into his coat. Felicity shuffled behind him to the door until he stopped and turned to look down at her.

“Felicity, can I ask you something? It’s kind of selfish.” He actually worried his bottom lip. This made her focus on his mouth, which was kind of dangerous. She only met him a few hours ago and a part of her was hoping he wanted to kiss her. Did this make her shameless? Wanton? She did not care.

“Sure,” her voice may have cracked a little.

“I noticed you have some furniture still in boxes.”

“Yeah, it turns out I can build a PC in thirty-eight minutes, but anything requiring an Allen wrench is a serious challenge.”

Oliver chuckled and then shifted from foot to foot. “I just thought, if you weren’t busy tomorrow, maybe I could come over and assemble it for you. If you like…”

“Oh, sure! Yeah, I mean, I don’t have any plans, really. Usually, on Saturdays I just go to the coffee shop up the street for a latte and then come back here to read. Rituals are comforting.”

“I get that. I go to the gym.”

“Of course, you do. I mean…” she stammered. Oliver raised an amused eyebrow in her direction, which only made things worse. “Obviously, you work out. Not that I noticed.”

“Eleven?”

“Great.” She smiled warmly. “Thank you for everything tonight, Oliver. And thank you for tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow hasn’t happened yet,” he countered with a grin.

“I know. But I have a feeling it’s going to be nice.”

Oliver fixed his gaze on her. “Good night, Felicity Smoak.” Then he leaned down and placed a gentle, lingering kiss on her soft cheek. The stubble on his own might have brushed against her skin as he retreated. Felicity’s gasp reverberated in Oliver’s ears and his brain and his heart clenched for a second. 

“Night.”

He kept his eyes on her as he pulled the balaclava from his pocket and pulled it back over his head. Felicity giggled and raised her hands up, clawing the air with her fingers. She made an adorable “grr” noise.

Oliver stepped into the cold with a grin clearly outline by the ski mask on his face. He felt lighter than he had in a long time.  When he got to the sidewalk he looked at the tree filling the bay window. He turned and signaled a “thumbs up” to Felicity, still standing in the doorway. She waved, then closed the door to the frosty night air.

 


	2. The Furniture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend makes and appearance and Felicity and Oliver get to know each other better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for kudos and comments! I truly appreciate your kindness and encouragement. Apologies for any typos here. I gave my overqualified beta the night off!

[ ](https://imgur.com/txq8ron)

 

Felicity awoke the next morning feeling well-rested. She had slept deeply, like she had gone to bed after drinking a little too much. But that wasn’t the case this time. It was that kiss. Oliver Queen’s lips had rested on the cheek last night for just a moment, but she’d been intoxicated by them. By him – the way his masculine voice charged the air, he smelled of leather and pine, and how his blue eyes sometimes looked cornflower and other times more azure.

Snap out of it, Smoak, she chided herself during her circuit to pick up coffee and a bagel. It was another chilly morning, but she was grateful for that. It felt real – the cold – grounding her a little.

Still, she couldn’t help herself. The memory of him was vivid and had taken on a warm glow, like one of those Hallmark Channel movies. Dammit. Getting ideas, romantic ideas, about handsome strangers was an express ticket to disappointment, wasn’t it? Men like him were lovely and sincere when they were standing in front of you, but they had complicated lives, full of glamorous distractions and a normal woman, albeit a crazy smart one, was not diverting. He probably already forgot about her and any pronouncements he had made about stopping by her house today.

Their previous evening together was wonderful. _Was_ being the important, soul-crushing verb in that sentence. Now, as she headed back home, latte gripped tightly in her hand, she needed to disassemble any fantasies that had taken up residence in that rarely accessed, dreamy space in her otherwise analytical mind, and focus on the tasks of the day.

Now was the time to refocus her mind with some Python coding. It always grounded her to hack in her head when the outside world became a little too unstable. Problem-solving was her thing and using her mind to overcome obstacles made her feel powerful and useful…her best badass self.

As she approached her building, all thoughts of advanced software exploitation quietly slipped away.

Oliver Queen was standing next to a sleek black town car that was parked beside the curb in front of her house. At that moment, he was in conversation with a very tall, broadly built African American man who had a great laugh. Felicity could hear it from a half a block away.

Oliver’s back was turned away from Felicity as he talked, allowing her the opportunity to peruse his outfit as she approached. He was wearing the leather jacket again, this time with impeccable black jeans that tapered perfectly down his muscular legs to a pair of black low-profile Converse sneakers. There was a soft knit grey cap covering his perfect head and a knitted scarf wrapped around his neck. She bet it smelled wonderful. It smelled like Oliver. _What kind of madness was this?_

Just as she felt inclined to stop and possibly punch herself in the face, the gentleman she didn’t know caught sight of her. He signaled to Oliver with his eyes and a head nod in her direction, causing the Queen CEO to turn. Seeing her, he beamed in her direction a smile that threatened to poach everything in her ovaries. What a way to go.  

Oliver couldn’t help it. As Felicity approached, he thought that while she had been adorable in her panda slippers and loungewear the night before, she was even more attractive bundled in her casual clothes in the light of day. Soft and touchable.

“Good morning, Felicity.”

“Hello Oliver.” Her voice was a bit too loud, she thought. Next time she would sound more like herself. Oliver didn’t seem to notice.  

“I’d like you to meet John Diggle. My friend. Digg drives for our family.”

The taller man now had a name and his warm smile was directed toward her.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Smoak.” Diggle extended a gigantic hand toward Felicity, requiring her to swap her coffee into the opposite fist. She watched her right hand get lost inside the man’s massive paw for a moment, marveling at how warm it was. She immediately got a good vibe from this man. Kindness emanated from him.

“Pleased to meet you Mister Diggle,” she grinned.

“Felicity, I asked Digg to meet me here this morning because I wanted to borrow some tools, just in case we need them.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Diggle smirked, unable to keep his mouth shut. “I still can’t believe you Queens survive on a gigantic estate and don’t have a hammer, nails or wood glue.”

“I looked everywhere, Digg. I swear.” Oliver looked a little sheepish at the moment. Felicity liked it immensely. His awkwardness was adorable and made him all the more approachable.

Diggle opened the trunk of the town car and produced a compact red metal tool box. It looked a little dented and scraped, used, like a toolbox should. He set it on the ground next to Oliver.

“Actual tools, Oliver?” Felicity almost laughed. “It’s IKEA furniture. Everything is supposed to go together with those Allen wrench thingies, right?”

Oliver and Digg exchanged a look. Amateur.

“Putting together furniture with only the Allen wrench is just asking for trouble, Felicity.”

“Your services are definitely required here.” Digg shifted his attention from Oliver and gave Felicity a wink.

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re here to service me, Oliver.” As soon as the words left her lips, she heard them in her head, clear as a bell. Her mortification level was immeasurable. Fortunately, John Diggle was a man accustomed to discretion and he knew when to squelch a guffaw. Oliver also schooled his expression.

“Anything else, Oliver?” Digg wisely changed the subject.

“No, Digg.” Oliver extended his hand to his friend in farewell. “I appreciate you coming by on a Saturday. Tell Lyla I’m sorry I disrupted your day.”

“Seriously? You only deferred a weekly pilgrimage to Babies R Us by approximately 38 minutes.”

Oliver smiled and nodded. Felicity found herself grinning at his deadpan delivery.

“Digg and his wife are expecting a girl,” Oliver volunteered. With pride, he added, “I’m going to be a kind of uncle.”

“Yeah,” Digg smirked as he moved around to the driver’s side of the town car. “The spoiling like crazy but never changing a diaper kind of uncle.”

“What if I trade college tuition for diaper duty?”

Diggle’s face morphed into a wide smile. “You are officially off the hook, Man.” His eyes widened for a moment, still processing the enormity of the conversation.

“Cool,” Oliver replied. “I’ll get these tools back to you on Monday. Say hey to Lyla.”

“Sure.” John Diggle turned his attention to Felicity. “It was very nice to meet you, Ms. Smoak.”

“Nice to meet you too, Mister Diggle. Good luck at the baby store.”

Felicity turned and began walking up to the porch of her building, leaving Oliver and Diggle a moment alone. John Diggle distinctly mouthed the word _cute_ and offered Oliver a thumbs up. Oliver gave him a nod and a subtle smile before picking up the toolbox and trailing behind his enchanting new friend.

~~~~~~>>>

The foyer Felicity’s apartment offered welcome warmth. After the front door was closed behind them, they set about removing their coats and woolen gear. Felicity collected Oliver’s jacket and hung it in the coat closet next to hers. It looked strange, filling up the space there, but she liked it, finding herself lingering on the sight just a bit too long.

“Where should I start?” Oliver’s voice pulled her from her closet reverie. Felicity turned and faced him in the living room. He looked nervous. No, not nervous. Oliver Queen was not nervous guy. Anxious, perhaps? Excited, maybe? Felicity was hardly an expert on the emotions of Queen Consolidated’s CEO, but he definitely looked…something.

“Well, that end table over there has been mocking me for a while now.”

“Great. End table it is!” Oliver grinned and headed toward the sofa and upright end table box that was currently serving as a cardboard substitute. He pulled it aside, opened the tool chest and dug around for something to use to slice through the sealing tape. A box cutter was quickly discovered and he attacked the box with gusto.

“I really do appreciate this, Oliver.” Felicity hovered in the doorway, watching his enthusiasm.

Oliver stopped and looked up, wearing a child-like grin. It was kind of adorable and Felicity worked aggressively to squelch the swoony noise that was making its way up her throat. He was kneeling on her area rug in jeans, about to work with tools. It should be criminal to tease a single straight woman this way.

“I…I’m just going to get my laptop,” her voice squeaked before she pointed in a vague direction and then followed her own finger away from the room.

~~~~~~>>>

After a few rounds of spritzing water on her face and silently screaming into her powder room mirror, Felicity emerged and went about the task of finding her laptop and setting up work on her kitchen table. The proximity to the living area was perfect. She could remain engaged in the situation with her guest without hovering over him.

Oliver was grateful that Felicity Smoak was sitting approximately five yards away from him. He enjoyed that she didn’t hover, but rather provided space for him to take his time figuring out the projects. But he also appreciated that she was close by. Every so often, he heard her murmuring softly to herself as she worked. He could glance up and see her silhouette, her pony tail shifting subtly behind her as she puzzled through a piece of code. At least twice, she cheered and pumped her fist in the air. It made him smile. She made him smile.

Eventually, curiosity got the better of her and she approached to observe what Oliver was doing. Not too closely. When Oliver noticed her interest, he waved her closer. He showed her how the pieces of her coffee table fit together, how wood glue around the small wooden dowels would make the furniture stronger. She was mesmerized by his warmth and his sweetness as he demonstrated the way the grooves fit together.

“You know, Oliver, if you ever give up being a CEO, you could be a carpenter.”

Oliver laughed. “I appreciate your confidence in my skills, but what I’m doing right now has nothing to do with carpentry.”

“I figured as a Queen, you grew up with antiques, not cardboard box furniture.”

“Hey, that makes me sound…I’ll have you know I had IKEA stuff in every dorm room in every college I was thrown out of.”

He offered her a smile, complete with dimples. “Come closer. Now tighten this while I hold it together.” Felicity placed an Allen wrench into the back of a drawer while he held the pieces together.

“Maybe you should take up carpentry, Felicity.”

“Oh, I’ll stick to tech, Oliver.” Felicity laughed and headed back to the comfort of her laptop. Oliver watched her move, happy for his view.

One by one, the furniture boxes were opened, and one by one the projects were completed. When Oliver realized he was wrapping up, one hour and forty-two minutes later, he cursed the ease of assembly. Felicity noticed him and approached.

“Wow! I can’t believe this. I have real furniture now.” Felicity slipped her fingers across the top of an end table, the touch of it assuring it was real.

Oliver beamed in response. He looked proud, even though he knew the accomplishment was a minor thing.

“It wasn’t hard, Felicity.”

“Maybe not for you. But I only like putting things together if they have microchips in them.”

“I guess if IKEA ever gets into the computer business the world will be in big trouble.”

“I never thought about it, but you’re right,” she responded.

Suddenly, looking at the completed projects in the room, Oliver grew still and quiet. At this point, he still wasn’t sure if Felicity was just being nice by accepting his help, or if she actually liked having him around. He needed to test the waters.

“So, Boss,” he grinned. “What’s next?” He was hoping she’d say lunch or a movie, perhaps. He was not expecting…

“Bedroom.”

Oliver’s breath stuttered. He watched Felicity catch up with herself and shake her head, a blush covering her face.

“That wasn’t…I mean, I promise I wasn’t trying to…not that you aren’t totally, well you know…and of course, who wouldn’t because you’re you and it’s…what I was trying to say is…nightstand.” She sputtered out the last word and then fell silent, waiting.

“Oh,” Oliver sighed, a wry smile crossing his lips. “There’s a nightstand left to put together.”

“Yes,” she breathed out. “If you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Oliver gathered the tools back into the box and stood up, ready to take on the next task. “I couldn’t possibly turn down an invitation to your bedroom, Felicity." And then he winked. It was a cute wink, not a sleazy one, but it definitely had an effect.

“Oliver,” she huffed, blushing brighter. Felicity turned away quickly and moved toward the back hall with Oliver trailing closely behind her until she stopped at a door. Without turning back around, she found the courage to flirt again. “You are incorrigible.

“I know.” Oliver leaned down until his mouth was next to the delicate shell of her ear and whispered. “It’s on my Sherpa resume.”

Felicity giggled and pushed open her bedroom door, grateful she had made the bed earlier that morning.

~~~~~~>>>

“Felicity Smoak, you didn’t just throw a pillow at me,” Oliver’s voice was elevated in jest.

“Oh yes, I did,” Felicity sassed back. “You disparaged Tony Stark, Oliver Queen.”

While Oliver worked on the floor next to the bed, Felicity hovered in the doorway entertaining him with completely ridiculous conversation. It ranged from the obscure – what was your favorite food as a child (Felicity: macaroni and cheese because it meant her Mom was home from working at the casino, Oliver: hot dogs because they were forbidden by Moira Queen and that made them taste all the more decadent) to more important issues.

“For the record,” Oliver feigned a serious expression, “I did not disparage Tony Stark, who, by the way is a fictional character. I simply said that Bruce Wayne was cooler.”

Felicity huffed comically. “Ok, I am just going to say one thing and then I will let this go because obviously you haven’t thought your position through. Complex, morally ambiguous billionaire Bruce Wayne is cool, as is his alter ego, Batman, but without Lucius Fox making his awesome tech and Alfred keeping him straight, he’s kind of just a rich guy in a costume.”

Oliver listened, but tilted his head at the end of her statement and might have harrumphed.

“Now, Tony Star is also a complex, morally ambiguous billionaire, but he does his own R&D. He is a tech genius. His suit is extremely badass. Okay, maybe not as hot as the bat suit.”

“Ah hah! But you admit his costume is sexy,” he pointed a small Allen wrench at her and affected a most accusatory tone.

Felicity folded her arms across her chest and emitted a heavy sigh. “Maybe.”

Oliver accepted this as a win and grinned to himself as he finished putting the top on the nightstand. “You know, I dressed up like Batman for Halloween every year for six years.”

“Do you still have the costume?” she asked saucily, before wandering back down the hall.

~~~~~~>>>

The day stretched into the afternoon. Felicity and Oliver lounged living room in the shadow of the Christmas tree, sipping cocoa and talking about their families and adventures growing up. Oliver was utterly charmed by this young woman, her sharp mind, her humor and her unique perspective on the world, which was fostered in hardscrabble Las Vegas and polished in the high-pressured halls of MIT. Remarkable was a word that came easily when he considered her.

“Do you like your Christmas tree?” He caught her eye with the question. “You need some decorations for it.”

“You know, it’s not what I expected. Not like getting a fern or something. It’s like bringing a bit of the forest inside. Just for a little while, of course. Because…fire hazard.” She snorted a little and then rolled her eyes at herself. Oliver grinned a bit wider.

“Now you sound like Digg’s wife, Lyla. She always grouses about the needles, but he buys a tree every year anyway. She just calls him a sap and makes him vacuum constantly.”

“He seemed very nice. He’s a driver for your family?”

“Started out that way. But over the years we’ve become good friends. He’s honest and a really positive person. And I’ve been encouraging him to start his own business. He got his MBA last year and pretty soon he’s going to open a health club downtown. It will be nice for him to have more predictable hours when the baby comes and the facilities will be state of the art.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re an investor as well a future charter member,” she asked with a sly smile.

Oliver raised his hands in admission.

“Wait, don’t you also have some ownership in a nightclub in the Glades?”

“Yeah, Verdant. I’m really a silent partner on that one. It belongs to my friend, Tommy Merlyn.”

“Ah. the designer ski mask guy.”

“Yes. Exactly. And when you meet him you have to refer to him as that all the time. He’ll be mortified.” Oliver chuckled. Felicity raised her eyebrows. The thought of meeting another one of Oliver’s friends was nice, but he made it sound so natural and expected. She was quite surprised.

“Felicity,” his voice piped up, nearly interrupting her. “You know, the Christmas lights in Starling are nice and I don’t always take the time to appreciate them. Since this is your first holiday here, could we have dinner tonight and maybe after, if you aren’t sick of me, take a drive to see them?”

Felicity processed. This sounded like a date.

“Um.”

Oliver’s face fell slightly, the corners of his mouth turning down.

“I’m sorry. It’s really last minute. It’s ridiculous to assume someone like you…”

“Someone like me?”

“Someone so…remarkable.” Oliver’s blue eyes stared into hers.  “You probably have plans.”

“Uh…I would really like to have dinner with you tonight, Oliver,” she said with an awkward smile.

“Yeah?” Oliver lit up inside before standing suddenly. He checked his phone for the time.

“Wow. It’s two-thirty already. I have some errands to run before tonight.”

Felicity hopped up, sensing his new urgency and headed to the coat closet. Her mind was still reeling from the fact that she had a date. Any Saturday night away from her laptop would be a welcome distraction, but this one was massive.

“Pick you up at 6:30?”

Felicity nodded with a smile and watched as he pulled on his jacket and headed to the door. She followed.

“What should I wear?” Her voice sounded a little desperate. Oliver looked confused for a moment. “Am I dressing for hotdogs or are you wearing a tie?”

Oliver grinned.

“Yes, I’m wearing a tie. I don’t think we know each other well enough for hotdogs yet, do you?” He winked at her. “How about something festive?”

“Okay.” Felicity smiled back. Oliver Queen was wearing a tie. And she was going to put on her best dinner dress. And it was a date.

If there was still any question in her mind, Oliver then put his hand on her shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek again, as he had done the previous night. His lips were warm and his scruffy jaw lingered against her soft skin once more.  The way he added “ _See you later_ ” in a low voice would have been illegal in several conservative states.

~~~~~~>>>

After a call to Table Salt, where the Queen name successfully garnered a decent last-minute table, Oliver set about running his errands. First, he picked up a bracelet he’d had made for Thea that was ready at the jewelry store and then he dropped off a Queen Consolidated donation check to Starling General Hospital. Before heading home, he stopped by a florist shop. He didn’t want to arrive at Felicity’s empty-handed.

Returning to the Queen Mansion he was struck by how empty it felt. It was decorated for Christmas and receiving obligatory holiday guests, but it wasn’t feeling much like home without his sister. He laid out a charcoal suit and steel grey tie ensemble that Thea had picked out for him for their last charity gala before heading to the shower. Later, as he got dressed, Oliver wondered if he might invite Felicity over some time. He could show her the estate and maybe they could watch one of those Avengers movies she had told him about in the screening room.  

~~~~~~>>>

It happened somewhere between tweezing her eyebrows and trying to put on her stockings. Felicity received an urgent call from police headquarters about some suspicious activity related to their servers. When she checked the system on her laptop, her worst fears were confirmed. The Starling City Police Department was currently experiencing a full-fledged denial of service attack. She needed to go to work immediately to ensure that confidential databases and evidence gathering systems weren’t being compromised.

Felicity ordered a Lyft and by the time she threw on a pair of jeans and a boyfriend sweater the car was waiting in front of her building. Not having to drive herself enabled her to safely focus on crisis management while en route. It also gave her an opportunity to compose a text.

_Oliver, I am so sorry. Serious work emergency. I have to cancel. Thank you for the invitation._

She added a sad face emoji and hit send.

A few minutes later she received a reply.

I understand. Another time, I hope.

A single fat tear escaped Felicity’s eye and rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away and put on her hacking face. She would crumple in a disappointed ball later, after she tracked down the creep who decided on this, of all nights, to mess with the SCPD and ruin her date.


	3. Chapter 3: The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity isn't happy after missing her date with Oliver. And Tommy Merlyn is a bit of a Santa Claus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for your patience on this story. I got waylaid and couldn't finish in as timely a fashion for a holiday story as I would have liked. Still, I hope you enjoy it and maybe give it another read next year. 
> 
> Happy New Year to you!

 

It was well-after midnight when Felicity finally finished her work. She had stopped the service attack on the SCPD, strengthened security measures, and written up a situation report. She also managed to trace the ne’er-do-well to a server in Russia. Fracking Bratva. Every so often, some guy had to show off to his boss by breaching an American network. Trying to have the offender arrested by Moscow police would be a wasted effort, but Felicity did manage to forward the hacker’s IP address to Interpol’s Cybercrime division as well as a couple of European white hat hackers she knew who liked to dabble in law enforcement.

She wasn’t tired in the least, but rather feeling a bit overstimulated from the rush of problem-solving she had engaged in. The thought of going straight home and dwelling on her botched date with Oliver Queen was more than she could bear. They had exchanged texts around 10 pm. He said he hoped her night was going okay. She sent back a hurried string of anxious looking emojis punctuated with panda bears. He responded with a thumbs up. So much for an evening of holiday romance.

In an effort to embrace her epic wallowing, Felicity decided to find a bar and have a drink before heading home. She engaged a Lyft driver to take her to Poison, Max Fuller’s notorious watering hole, but on the way, they passed Verdant. She recalled that Oliver had a connection to the club. Deciding that if she couldn’t see him, she could at least drown her sorrows somewhere associated with him, she asked the driver to amend their route at the last minute. A hefty tip was added to the final bill.

Felicity had never been inside what some of her police cohorts referred to as “The Jewel of the Glades” before. It was pretty impressive. Spacious and colorful. A solid crowd of smartly-dressed people from Central Casting filled the place. The sound system was quite good. When the early notes of a popular song played, a number of people fled the bar areas to fill the dance floor and Felicity took the opportunity to find a stool at a bar near the back of the space.

The bartender was drying barware when she sat down. He nodded to her, finished a glass and then leaned forward with a nod.

“What can I make for you, Beautiful?” His face was made for smiling, she thought. That was a good quality in a bartender.

“Do you have a blender?”

He looked genuinely contrite. “Sorry, I do not.”

Felicity’s face fell. So much for submerging herself in a super-girly frozen pina colada.

“How about I make you one of my super mojitos. Sweet and minty. Or maybe a chocolate martini.”

“Are there nuts? Because I can’t have those. I’ll look like a balloon in the Macy’s Parade and then I’ll die.”

“No nuts.” He raised his fingers in the Boy Scout salute.

“Can you make a chocolate martini a double?” She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips at the end of the question.

“I’ll take care of you.” His voice was warm and understanding before he turned away to gather the magical ingredients he needed to soothe his forlorn customer.

While he worked, Felicity spun her seat around a couple of times before stopping to watch the people. The happy people. They were moving together to the beat, almost like water swirling in a pool and it was mesmerizing. She was distracted by it until the bartender placed a drink in front of her with a flourish.

“Here you go,” he announced. “One Mega Chocolate Martini. Guaranteed to help you forget whatshisname.”

Felicity dropped her head into her folded arms.

“Oh God. It’s that obvious.” She looked up to meet the bartender’s eyes. They were nice, but they weren’t Oliver’s eyes. God, she was so pathetic.

“I am so, so lame,” she continued, then raised the drink to her lips and took a deep draw while the mixologist looked on with curiosity.

“He’s a scoundrel and he doesn’t deserve you.” The bartender didn’t say it in a flirty way. He said it like a brother might say it, she thought. Nice. She didn’t have a brother. But if she did, she would want one who could make a chocolate martini like the one that was currently seducing her taste buds and dulling the sharp ache in her brain.  

Felicity shook her head. “Nope. He’s wonderful. And amazing. It’s me. I blew it. We had a date and I blew it.” Felicity took another draw on the glass. “You know, Chocolate is the only edible substance that melts around 93° degrees, just below our human body temperature. That’s why chocolate melts so easily in your mouth.”

The man squelched a smile.

“What could somebody as cute as you do to ruin a date with Mister Wonderful and Amazing?”

“I had to cancel. Really last minute. Work. Stupid Russian mob.”

The bartender looked on her with curiosity, then observed as she downed the rest of the martini in several gulps, then planted the empty glass on the bar

“Keep ‘em coming, Barkeep.”

The man nodded and resigned to look after this one. She was on her own and obviously having a bad night. No need to see it get worse.

Tommy Merlyn liked to work behind the bar occasionally. It was good to experience the club from a service perspective. It allowed him insight into the current customer base. He didn’t mind the fact that people really did look for consolation in the counsel of a bartender. Tommy wasn’t exactly a wise man, but he was a good listener, which was often times all the other person needed.

Tommy continued to make the sad blonde drinks, albeit progressively weaker ones, for nearly an hour. Eventually, he offered a glass of water to help reduce the pain that was likely to come the next day. When another bartender arrived to relieve him, Tommy moved to the other side of the bar and sat with her for a while.

On her third martini, Tommy finally learned her name. Suddenly, everything made sense. That morning, he met his best friend at the gym to collect his truck and the man was smiling. So many teeth. It was disconcerting, really. Tommy pressed for an explanation and was rewarded with a ten-minute book report on a woman. She was brilliant and funny and unpredictable and remarkable. Oliver Queen never described a woman as remarkable in his whole life. So, he made a point to file away her name for future reference. Felicity Smoak.  

>\--->

The sound of the doorbell caused Oliver to wake suddenly and roll off the sofa in the den of the Queen Mansion. He had fallen asleep in front of the fire a couple of hours earlier and it was only embers now. It was 2:30 in the morning and he immediately felt dread overtaking his initial annoyance at the situation. Bad news was often delivered at this ungodly hour. He tugged the hoodie around his t-shirt and lounge pants and trudged to the foyer.

Nothing prepared him for the sight, really. There in the doorway stood his best friend with a ridiculous grin and his arms full of…

“Tommy!” Oliver gasped as his best friend moved past him to enter the grand foyer.

“Shh. Please assure me this slumbering princess is the correct Felicity. The one you were mooning over this morning. Because if she isn’t, this was a gross miscalculation on my part.”

“Of course it is. What happened to her?” Oliver’s voice was louder now. The sight of Felicity looking slightly disheveled, her purse piled in her lap as she rested in Tommy’s arms was very disconcerting.

“Down boy.” Tommy gave him a pointed stare. “She’s just sleeping it off.”

Oliver scrubbed his face with his palms. He was still waking up, really, and his brain was trying to make sense of the situation.

“Where do you want her?” Tommy asked blithely. With more thought, he corrected himself. “I mean, where should I carefully place your girl?”

“Sofa in the den. I’ll get blankets.” On that, Tommy headed for the Queen Mansion’s only casually appointed room and Oliver bounded up the stairs to fetch what was needed to make his guest comfortable.  

When Oliver returned, several blankets and pillows bundled in his arms, he found Felicity still sleeping on the sofa and Tommy in a leather chair. He had stoked the fire, sourced the scotch, and had a tumbler in hand. Another glass was set on a table next to a matching chair, presumably poured for his host.

The room was warming up again. The fire blazed and crackled in the hearth. The flames reflected off the modest-sized, beautifully appointed Christmas tree twinkling with white lights that filled one corner. It was one of four trees in the house. There was another in the Great Room next to the foyer, and both Oliver and Thea’s rooms had trees as well, as was the tradition.

Oliver carefully placed a soft, warm blanket over Felicity, taking a moment to study her face and assure himself that she was okay. He actually tucked her in, eliciting a snort from Tommy. Oliver shot him a glare and returned to smooth the blanket. Finally convinced the lady was in a deep and comfortable sleep, he plopped himself in his chair and grabbed the drink that was waiting for him.

“Okay, you want to tell me what happened?” He kept his voice quiet and even, so he wouldn’t disturb her.

Tommy took a swig of liquid and snorted. “All the gin joints in all the world and she shows up in mine. Ours.”

Oliver shook his head in disbelief and waited for a deeper explanation.

“I thought at first it was some kind of post-work, post-crisis thing and the woman needed to unwind, but she was just really sad. Fate brought her to me, I guess. And so I bring her to you.”

“Tommy, she’s a person, not an offering. Wait, sad?”

“Yeah, apparently she had a hot date tonight she wasn’t able to keep. Felt terrible about it.”

Tommy’s lips curled into a smirk as Oliver nodded and hinted at a smile. He was sorry she was so disappointed about what had happened, but he couldn’t help but feel happy knowing it had meant something to her. _He_ meant something, perhaps?

“Good. I mean, it’s good you were there. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. She may have imbibed her weight in chocolate martinis…that I made for her.”

Oliver threw Tommy an exasperated glance. Tommy Merlyn shrugged.

“Hey, it was what the grown-up lady wanted. And Ms. Smoak assured me she wasn’t driving. Then she started waning and kind of fell asleep on the bar. I looked in her purse...just for ID, and her address was there. I thought about taking her home, but I was worried she would be alone when I left her there. So, I figured you were good for hangover nurse duty in the morning.”

Oliver sighed, signaling that he now understood.

“Of course. I’m glad you brought her here. It was the right thing. I’ll look after her.”

Tommy Merlyn affected a whisper now. “By the way, she may or may not work for the Russian mob. I'm not sure. She was kind of wasted. Anyway, she’ll keep you on your toes, Ollie. I approve.” He saluted Oliver with the remnants of the drink in his glass and finished it with a hearty swig before bolting for the door.

“Thanks, Buddy.” Oliver gave Tommy a smirky grin. 

“Alright. I’m out. Beauty sleep. Santa’s coming.”

>\--->

It was early on Christmas Eve morning when Oliver was gently nudged awake by his housekeeper. Raisa was a woman of formidable character and exceptional warmth who had been a part of the Queen family since Oliver and Thea were children. When it came to the Queen siblings, she was loved just as hard as she loved in return. Still, she took no sass from either of them.

“Mister Oliver,” she hissed. “Why is this young woman asleep on your sofa?”

Oliver’s eyes fluttered open and his brain skidded into wakefulness as he shifted in his oversized chair. He sighed heavily.

“She’s a friend, Raisa.”

“I should hope so,” she countered. “But that does not explain why a girl with the face of an angel is asleep in the den. The last time I cleaned, this house had five guest bedrooms with nice comfortable beds. It makes no sense to be on a sofa.”

It was rare that Raisa lectured him now that Oliver was a grown man, but he felt suitably admonished.

“I know. Tommy Merlyn brought Miss Smoak by quite late and she was already…asleep. I worried she might wake in the night and feel disoriented. This seemed like the best solution.”

Raisa studied him, as she had done hundreds of times, searching his face. When he was a callow youth, she had usually seen right through his attempts as misdirection. All she saw this morning was sincerity. Oliver Queen had outgrown his youthful stupidity years earlier to become a gentleman of character. That didn’t mean she didn’t keep him on his toes now and again.

“Mister Tommy should know better too. Now, you will be needing coffee for two?”

“A very large pot, please, Raisa.” He sighed and carded a hand through his mussed hair.

The woman looked over at Felicity and nodded before making her way toward the kitchen.

“Eggs, fruit and scones?”

“That would be wonderful. No nuts though. She’s allergic. Do we still have some of those preserves you make?”

“She must be special. You never share your favorite preserves.” Raisa smirked as she headed through the doorway.

“Thank you, Raisa.”

“Oh, Mister Oliver.” Raisa poked her head back in. “There may be some mistletoe…around.”

The woman smirked as Oliver rolled his eyes.

>\--->

It was a crazy dream. One of those long ones that just goes on and on. So long that you suspect it’s a dream while you’re in it. There were panda bears and somehow Felicity was in charge of them. She liked that because they were obedient and she got to pet them. And her 9th grade gym teacher, Mr. Sadler, was there. He was wearing a furry hat like the Winkies in the Wizard of Oz and even though Felicity never smelled things in her dreams, he smelled like cigarettes. She just knew it. He was the enemy and everywhere she went – the grocery store, a server room at MIT, and the balcony at Winterfell. And he kept swinging an umbrella at her panda bears. That really pissed her off. In an unexpectedly aggressive move, she hit Winkie Sadler with an uppercut that dropped him on the ground. Felicity woke up when the panda bears hailed her as their leader.

She murmured, “Yes, I’ll be your queen,” into the soft brown suede of the couch that rubbed softly against her cheek. The utterance of his surname caught Oliver’s attention enough to pull his gaze from the weekend newspaper to his guest.

He studied her from his chair a few feet away, as he had done numerous times in the past hour. It wasn’t easy being a Queen. He had wondered for some time if he would ever find someone to share his life with. All of the obvious choices, from seasoned socialites to driven businesswomen, had drifted in and out of his life, but there had been no one who stood out, who challenged him and taught him. None of those women connected with him and made him think and laugh quite like this lady had since Friday night. Felicity Smoak was different. She saw things from a different angle, she was vivacious and funny. She could be trouble, he thought, challenging at every turn. But maybe he was ready for that. He didn’t want to rush anything, but maybe she was it. Maybe one day she could...  

“Queen of the Pandas,” she clarified in a groggy voice. Her arm even raised so she could wave to her subjects awkwardly before it dropped suddenly and she whacked herself in the face.

Oliver would have laughed quite loudly if he hadn’t been concerned she might have hurt herself. A moment later, she was sitting up, shaking off the pain. It didn’t take long for the blonde woman to look confused. Where was she? How did she get here?

“Felicity.” Oliver spoke quietly, trying not to surprise her. “You’re okay. You’re at my home.”

She looked at him but it was like she didn’t recognize him out of context. Then she scanned the well-appointed room and ran her fingers along the cushions.

“No way. This looks like a museum. This couch is suede. I can’t stop petting it. Nobody has a suede couch.”

“Felicity, it’s me. Oliver. You slept on my sofa last night.”

Suddenly, Felicity’s eyes grew wide and her skin turned pink. “Oh, my God. I drank too much. I had a cab bring me here, didn’t I? How presumptuous and rude. I am so, so sorry.”

Felicity bolted up and searched for her shoes, which were at the foot of the couch. Oliver watched wordlessly, not sure what to say next. As soon as she finished putting them on, she made a beeline for the door, but Oliver finally sprung into action and quickly headed her off before she got to the foyer.

“Don’t run away. You weren’t presumptuous at all. It was Tommy who brought you here.”

“Tommy?”

“My friend, Tommy…Merlyn.”

“Designer ski mask Tommy Merlyn?”

“Yes, him. You ended up at Verdant last night. Our club. Tommy served you some drinks and when you got…overtired…he brought you here. I hope you don’t mind.”

She cringed at her memory of the past evening. Not her greatest showing. Now Oliver probably thought she was a barfly.

“Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”

Oliver’s expression reflected a warm, charming smile. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned in for emphasis.

“Don’t be. You had a tough night. Were you able to fix the problems at SCPD?”

“Oh, yes. BritneyLovr888 won’t be infiltrating Starling City servers again for some time.”

“You found him and he’s caught?”

“Nope.” She sighed loudly. “He’s some jerkwad hacker in Moscow. I stopped him.  I would tell you what I did to him, but a lady likes to maintain some mystery. Just know it was fairly terrible and he won’t be bothering the SCPD anymore.”

“Wow. You’re kind of a badass, aren’t you?” Oliver grinned at her and watched her blush in return. It was fun to have her on the ropes for a moment, given how clever she was. “I guess I can take comfort in knowing that you cancelled dinner for a very good cause last night.”

Felicity’s head dropped against his chest and talked into his shirt. Oliver looked down at the top of her head and smiled.

“I did not want to cancel. I hope you know that.” She murmured.

“I know.”

Felicity looked up at him with sparkling blue eyes. “Good,” she replied.

“As far as I’m concerned, dinner wasn’t cancelled. It was postponed. Okay?”

“Okay, Oliver.” The air felt lighter suddenly. Oliver felt the change in energy and decided to embrace it.

“It’s Christmas Eve. Do you have plans?”

Felicity chuckled. “I don’t even know what I’m doing for breakfast.”

“Ah,” Oliver pivoted and pulled Felicity’s arm into the crook of his and began leading her across the foyer and toward the kitchen. “You are in luck. Raisa, she helps Thea and me with the house, she has made us a delicious breakfast.”

“Coffee?” She moaned.

“Yes, ma’am. And then, I was thinking…you have a great Christmas tree, but it’s not decorated.”

“Oh, I don’t want to make a fuss with it. The tree doesn’t need fancy decorations.”

“I was thinking simple, actually. When Thea and I were kids, our parents would make bowls of popcorn and we would string it and hang it on one of the trees while we watched movies.”

“One? How many trees do you have?”

Oliver looked embarrassed. “Four. We had eight one year. That was crazy. Now that it’s just Thea and me, we have four. Not very big ones.”

Felicity’s eyes twinkled. “Well, as long as they aren’t very big.”

Suddenly, Oliver gathered her up in a hug. He rubbed his cheek against hers as he had done the previous day and it made her giggle. Oliver held her until she stopped. He really didn’t want to let go. But eventually, she pulled away to look up at him.

“Could we do the popcorn thing tonight, Oliver? It would be perfect.” She sounded genuinely excited.

“Sure. As long as you’ll let me take you to dinner after Christmas.”

“Okay. No interruptions this time. Even if the city is under attack from ninjas.”

“Is that likely to happen?” He adopted a serious tone.

“You never know.”

Oliver took her arm and began to lead her toward the hall, the shortest path to the kitchen.

“I should warn you in advance, our housekeeper, Raisa, is a bit…how do I say this? Totally of her own volition, she may have spent the past hour putting mistletoe up all over the house instead of making breakfast.”

Felicity smiled quietly, then paused.  

He felt her stop moving suddenly.  Oliver wasn’t sure what might be wrong. Before he could ask, the blonde, so much shorter than him, rolled up on her toes, gathered her hands to reach around his neck, and pulled him down for a kiss. Her mouth was warm and soft against his. Without thinking, he wrapped an arm around her waist and pressed fingers into her soft hair, extending the moment a little longer. When their lips finally parted, Oliver pressed his forehead against hers and they shared the same air. Feeling her so close felt right.

“Felicity Smoak. You really are remarkable.”

“Well, I am impatient. I couldn’t wait for the mistletoe.”

>\--->

That night, Oliver Queen made dinner for Felicity Smoak at her apartment and they strung popcorn to hang on her Christmas tree. It was a lovely evening and marked a tradition they would revisit again and again. Thea and her beau managed to get in a bit early on Christmas Day. When Oliver introduced Felicity as his girlfriend, Thea congratulated her brother on his fast work and took all the credit for bringing them together.

Tommy joined the party later in the evening. He watched Oliver and Felicity with interest, noting how they seemed to complement each other in every way that mattered. Later, he waited expectantly for Oliver to open his Christmas present. No one laughed louder than Oliver when he found a certain designer balaclava inside the box. 

 THE END.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All hail, Queen of the Pandas.


End file.
